


Letters to the Home Front

by junojelli



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Epistolary, F/M, Gen, Letters, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-13 07:57:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21490975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junojelli/pseuds/junojelli
Summary: The whole family had been on edge since news had reached the States about the counterattack that Hitler had launched. Louis Spina had come home with a newspaper just before Christmas that told of the shock German advance, and how the Allies had scrambled their men to meet them in the Ardennes forest. Ralph’s division, the 101st Airborne, were reported to be amongst the force sent to halt the advance. The radio and newspapers had not let up over the following days, proudly telling storied about the daring boys, surrounded in Belgium but bravely fighting on and making America proud. ‘Support them with War Bonds!’ the newsreader would crow, before wishing their listeners a happy Christmas. They hadn’t received a letter from their son in over 6 weeks.An epistolary story of letters between a medic of Easy Company, Ralph Spina and his mother back home, Margaret.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 1





	1. Mid-November 1944, Philadelphia, PA, USA

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gabriel_deserved_better](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabriel_deserved_better/gifts).

> Please keep in mind everything you see here is about the fictional portrayal of characters in HBO war miniseries and their actors, not the historical figures themselves, with no disrespect intended towards them, their families or their legacy.
> 
> This is something that grew from a long chat with gabriel_deserved_better about how there is not nearly enough fanfiction about Ralph Spina. I thought I would play with a style involving letters between Spina and his mother back home, but do it from her point of view to make things interesting!
> 
> Margaret Spina (OC) is his mother, Francis Spina (actually his name, but think of him as an OC) is his father, and I have given him two elder sisters, Florence and Ruth; and a younger sister Annie. They also have a family dog named Penn, because we all love dogs.
> 
> Chapters are likely to be short snapshots, which I'll also be posting on tumblr. It is highly likely that this fic will accompany another story between Ralph Spina/OC.

It was the clack of the letterbox that set the family dog, Penn into a flurry of barks as he raced to the front door for the arrival of the mail. Margaret Spina listened out for the heavier footfalls of her daughter who closely followed to rescue the envelopes. She smiled as she heard the familiar struggle of trying to retrieve the letters the dog undoubtedly had in its mouth without tearing them. It was a dance which was repeated most mornings between the ageing spaniel and one of the Spina family.

‘Goddammit _Penn_, let go!’

‘Language, Ruth!’ she called out as her daughter held the rescued mail high above her head, with Penn following closely behind, tail wagging furiously with excitement.

‘We should get a cage on the door, Ma. That way he won’t tear up the mail. He turned my Butterick catalogue into confetti a few weeks ago, and I had to pay 5c for a new one,’ Ruth grouched.

Margaret smiled as she took the post and flicked through the contents. She didn’t have the heart to tell her that she had considered a cage many times, but the morning ritual of Ruth fighting Penn for the mail was a daily source of amusement to her.

‘Anything exciting?’ Ruth asked, peering over her shoulder. She had placated the dog with one of the broken cookies from the jar in the kitchen down the hall.

‘Oh! There’s one from Ralph!’ Margaret smiled. The letter was smudged with graphite, various stamps and stickers on it as was typical of the long-distance Army mail that was shipped over from Europe. It had been a little while since she last had a letter from her only son, shipped out to England to fight over in France or the continent somewhere (she could never be sure, the mail was censored and Ralph left out these details).

It had been a little over a year since she last saw him before he left Philly. With the news of Pearl Harbour, Ralph had enlisted rather than be called up. He volunteered for the paratroopers, an elite unit which filled her with as much pride as worry. He had been deflated, annoyed even that sometime during his 9 months of training he had been singled out to be trained as a medic. A medic meant no weapons, nothing with which to protect himself with, no shooting at an enemy around the next corner. Ralph’s job was to keep the men around him alive and get them to safety if needs be. She was quietly grateful that her son wouldn’t have to live with the burden of having killed another man (like her husband Louis, Ralph’s father had to after the Great War), yet she worried about her son coping with the deaths of men he couldn’t save. She welcomed a letter from him, the whole family did, even though Ralph gave little away about his state of mind.

‘Well, let me read it after you have finished, I’ll write him back too,’ Ruth said she took the remaining mail out of her mother’s hand and deposited it on the small hall table, before climbing the stairs to her room.

Margaret walked to the sitting room and sat down, opening the letter noting that it was dated from a few weeks before.

_‘Dear Mama, Dad, Florence, Ruth and Annie,’_ it read. He always addressed it to them all, even though Florence lived with her husband a few blocks away.

‘_Fall over here is wet and damp, although England has some charming bright days where it looks like a storybook picture. I doubt it will get as cold as Philly, although the locals around here think we are due the coldest winter in years. I don’t know how to feel about that.’ _Ralph hated the cold. He would always layer up with every shirt, vest and sweater he could find. As a child he had begged them to move to California where his father often ran his trade fairs.

‘_I’ve found out which unit I’m going into, Easy Company of the 506 PIR. The regiment already has a Presidential Unit Citation for the fighting it saw in Normandy, so I feel very lucky to be placed among such soldiers. I think that I will have to earn my place amongst these men, having not trained and fought with them all since the start, but I hope my place as a medic helps me somewhat.’_ She hoped so too. Ralph was always a cheerful boy, and fair. She hoped that the men he fought with would see his goodness and not take advantage or ridicule him for it.

The letter went on, talking about a few more training jumps that he had undergone, and some trips to London. She smiled to think of her son spending time in one of the great cities of the world. Her husband Louis had liked London the time he went and had brought her home a beautiful cashmere twinset that she kept for her Sunday best after all these years. She would have liked to accompany him more on his trips, but with four children it was unpractical.

_‘We had a dance a few weeks ago with some of the Red Cross nurses stationed nearby. Some were American, others were English and French. The American girls somewhat ignored a lot of us, but the English and French nurses were very friendly and keen to dance and drink with us.’ _Margaret grinned, thinking of the blush that would have risen to her son’s cheeks to be pawed over by girls in uniform. No doubt her husband would also smile at that part too. They had quietly known that Ralph had a few past girlfriends in Philly, but none that he deemed suitable to introduce to his parents, or bring home for tea. Louis assured her that he was just doing what young men did before they were ready to settle down. Boys will be boys.

_‘I expect that I’ll be shipping out soon to join my company, and so my mail may get delayed from then on. You can write to me at my new unit from now on, I do enjoy hearing from you. I’ll write when I can, and I’m thinking of you all. Give Penn a cookie for me and a pat, I miss him too._

_Love to all,_

_Ralph’._


	2. 6th January 1945, Philadelphia, PA, USA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please keep in mind everything you see here is about the fictional portrayal of characters in HBO war miniseries and their actors, not the historical figures themselves, with no disrespect intended towards them, their families or their legacy.

It was the 6th of January when the next letter from Ralph arrived. Philadelphia had seen a fair amount of snowfall in the past week, yet most of it on the sidewalk had turned to slush. Louis had already cleared the snow off the stairs and front path for the morning and was making a pot of coffee on the stove. He had retrieved the mail before Penn had chewed it up, although the dog was a bit stiff in the cold and had parked himself by the warm vent in the corner of the sitting room. Christmas decorations were still strung up around the front room from the week before.

Margaret came down the stairs, her slippers softening her footfall as she followed the aroma of the brewing coffee. The house was quiet; Ruth was earning some money looking after the children a few doors down, and Annie was staying with the eldest Spina daughter Florence and her husband for a couple of days after New Year. Margaret had been sleeping poorly the past few weeks, so her husband had let her sleep in since the mornings were so dark and cold

The whole family had been on edge since news had reached the States about the counterattack that Hitler had launched through Belgium. Louis had come home with a newspaper just before Christmas that told of the German advance, and how the Allies had scrambled their men to meet them in the Ardennes. Ralph’s division, the 101st Airborne, were reported to be amongst the force sent to halt the advance. The radio and newspapers had not let up over the following days, proudly telling stories about the daring boys, surrounded in Belgium but bravely fighting on and making America proud. ‘Support them with War Bonds!’ the newsreader would crow, before wishing their listeners a happy Christmas.

But how could it be a happy Christmas for those at home who knew their sons, husbands, brothers and fathers were over there? Margaret knew for certain that Ralph would not be having a happy Christmas at all. They hadn’t received a letter from Ralph in over 6 weeks, and she dared not think into reasons as to why they hadn’t heard from him. She told herself and her daughters that no mail was getting out, despite Patton’s army broking through to reach the besieged men. The mail would come when it was able to be shipped back from the front. She just hoped that her letter she had sent to Ralph with a small bar of chocolate and a hat she had found for him had made it through. She hoped it might be of some comfort to him, wherever he may be. She hoped he wasn’t too cold.

People at the Sacred Heart had been sweet and understanding about the worry etched on the family’s faces. One of the Irish ladies with greying streaks in her bright auburn hair had brought over a tea loaf from a bakery, she had also seen her staying after Mass to light a candle and recite a prayer. She discovered this ladies’ son was also in the 506 PIR, stuck in Belgium, and they spent some time in quiet friendship. It was nice that others understood what they were going through. Through the grapevine it seemed that a fair number of young men from South Philly had volunteered specifically for the Paratroopers, even giving up jobs which would have given them exemption from military service. It made her smile, it must be something in the water or in the way that Philly mothers raised their sons to be brave, good men.

Margaret entered the kitchen and smiled at her husband whilst she retrieved the rest of the tea loaf to for some breakfast. Louis seemed remarkably chipper, getting mugs and plates down from the cupboard, and cutlery from the drawer. She raised an eyebrow at him as he whistled the tune of Moonlight Serenade as he set the table.

‘There’s been a letter from Ralph, dear’, Louis said to his wife as she sat down at the kitchen table as he poured her a mug of steaming coffee.

‘Oh thank god. Really? Where is it?’

Louis handed her the letter from the other end of the table where it was propped up against the morning paper. He had saved reading it for his wife, he knew how hard the past few weeks had been on her especially.

She smiled as she used her knife to open the resealed letter. Ralph’s handwriting in the letter appears messier than usual, and the letter is short and brief. There is a lack of organisation to its structure that sets Margaret on edge as she starts to read the short page.

_December 17th 1944 _– The letter is more than 3 weeks old

_‘Dear Mama, Dad, Flo, Ruth, Annie,’_

_Hope you are all well. Sorry for lack of letters, I am now with my unit and it has been a busy time settling them in and getting supplies sorted. Until now most of my work had been providing aspirin for headaches and sending men off for a bayonet course whilst they have been in reserve._’ Margaret didn’t know what a bayonet course meant; she would have to ask Louis about that one.

_‘We’ve been scrambled urgently to be moved into the field from our camp. We leave tomorrow morning, and I need to gather medical supplies before we head out’_ Margaret’s hand idly fingered the small gold cross on her necklace, Louis quietly watched her from across the table, sipping on his coffee.

_‘I’m not sure when I’ll next be able to write. I’m thinking of you all, I hope you have a nice Christmas. I’ll be envious of the turkey; I doubt I’ll be getting anything here_.’ Louis had set aside a plate of turkey on Christmas day, thinking of their son who was unlikely to be getting any festive meal. The whole family had been reluctant to touch the carved meat, so Margaret had made it into a soup the following day for them all. Penn had gobbled up a couple of pieces and had woofed contentedly.

_‘Thank you all for your mail and parcels, I do enjoy reading them and thinking of home. Thank you for the hat and chocolate, Mama, I think it will be handy. I hope Flo is well working in the hospital, the kids down the road aren’t driving Ruth too crazy and that Annie does her school work._’ She was glad the hat had reached him and he seemed pleased with it, even if it were a drab olive colour.

_‘Dad and Mama, please don’t be too worried if you don’t hear from me regularly. No news is good news in a way, I’ll try and let you know I’m safe when I can. I have to go now and join the other medics and our battalion nurses before we leave.’_

_Love to all, give Penn a pet for me._

_Ralph.’_

Margaret passed the letter over to her husband, who quietly read it whilst holding her hand, fingers entwined. She dabbed at the tears forming in her eyes with the sleeve of her robe with her free hand. She hoped he was well enough, that he was as safe as he could be considering the circumstances.

‘Margot, he’ll be fine. He’s a tough young man. And as he says, no news is good news in a way,’ he reassured her, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. She nodded and sniffed, turning to face him and giving a small smile.

‘And if this letter has reached us now, that means mail is getting out. And our letters have probably gotten to him already.’

‘That’s true. At least he will have a backlog to catch up on when he is next able to. I ought to send him some more chocolate or socks or something’ Margaret replied, squeezing her husband’s hand.

‘That’s a fine idea. Here, drink your coffee and get dressed. Let’s go out and get breakfast and we can then pop in on the girls and let them know. We can get some chocolate for Ralph on the way.’ Louis stood up and kissed his wife’s forehead before pouring himself another cup of coffee to chase away the chill of the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bayonet Course - Hospital treatment for venereal diseases. “Bayonet” refers to the male member.
> 
> Some amusing WWII slang!


End file.
